Naughty Feels So Nice
by hearttorn
Summary: My entry for the "Naughty and Nice" contest!


NAUGHTY FEELS SO NICE

It was December 23, and Eric was up to his usual tricks. He had been better for a while, after they had their "talk" – calling her himself, coming by with her favorite flowers, actually spending time with her (and not just in bed). But, as things got back to "normal" (well, their version of normal, which Sookie guessed meant no one getting staked, kidnapped or otherwise harmed), he slowly slipped back into his old ways.

It began slowly. First, he would ask her to join him at Fangtasia for the evening, rather than going out somewhere else on an actual date. Sookie understood that he had to work, he had responsibilities and a business to run, so she tried to be accommodating. She went along with it a few times. Then she began to notice that he was calling her less and less, and Pam was calling her more and more on his behalf. There began to be reasons why Eric couldn't make it to Bon Temps – could Sookie come to Shreveport? Sure, he made up for it by being attentive and affectionate while she was there, but it started to chafe. But the call on the 23rd really pushed her over the top.

"Hello?"

"Hello Sookie dear," Pam purred.

"Hi Pam, how are you?" Sookie had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but her Gran had raised her to be polite.

Pam hesitated a moment. When she finally spoke, Sookie heard something that sounded close to real regret in her voice for the first time, ever. "Sookie… my Master bids me to summon you for the evening."

"I beg your pardon? He's SUMMONING me? For what? A date or a job?"

"I… Sookie, you know I have no choice but to do as he bids. However, this is probably the least pleasant thing he's ever bid me to do. He has summoned you for, well, I guess you would call it a date. He has summoned you as his Bonded to be by his side tonight while he meets with some out of state vampires."

"I see… so I'm supposed to be his arm candy, right? Sit there, look pretty and act dumb?" Sookie was seething, but trying hard not to take it out on Pam, who was blameless in all this.

"In a nutshell, yes." Pam was nothing if not blunt.

"Right. I see. Well, tell your _Master_ that he can expect me at 8:00." She hung up.

Sookie was absolutely livid. She should've known to expect this. Eric had gotten what he wanted, to be able to say she was _his_, and now he was back to his old tricks of acting like he could just order her around and expect her to do whatever he said. Well, Stackhouse women did not get bossed like that. They were nothing if not independent, and tonight she'd make him realize that without a doubt.

She was going to turn up looking like a million bucks, but first she had to run a few errands. She drove over to Wal-Mart and picked up a hunting knife and a can of paint thinner. Then she ran over to Tara's Togs and grabbed the sexiest dress she could find. It was hot pink, strapless, super short and satin, and so tight she could barely breathe. She also picked up a pair of what could only be described as "fuck me" pumps – four-inch high black satin stiletto heels. Pleased with her purchases, she drove back home and headed straight for the attic. She remembered seeing her old softball bat up here somewhere. After a few minutes of digging, she found it. Perfect. Taking it with her, she headed back downstairs to get ready.

As she showered, she took the time to shave carefully and make sure every inch of skin that would be bared by the tiny dress was exfoliated. She shampooed and conditioned her hair, then hopped out of the shower. With her hair wrapped in a towel, she rubbed a nice vanilla scented lotion all over, then quickly painted her nails to match her dress. She plucked her eyebrows, and took extra time with her makeup. She blow dried and curled her hair into a giant blonde cloud of  "just fucked" messy sexiness. By god, if he wanted arm candy, he was going to get it. 

Finally, she pulled on her sexiest strapless bra, the one that pushed the girls practically under her nose, and her tiniest scrap of a thong. For one, she believed in dressing up from the skin out. For another, the dress demanded it. Finally, she wiggled into her new hot pink sheath. She put on long, dangly earrings and a necklace that settled into her cleavage, then grabbed a duffel bag from her closet. She slipped on her shoes, threw her purchases and her bat into the bag and was out the door without a backward glance.

All the way to Shreveport, she practiced locking down the bond. She'd never really tried it before, but she knew from Eric that it could be done. For her plan to work, he couldn't know she was near. She focused hard on locking all her thoughts and emotions down inside herself. Sookie imagined a safe or a vault, buried deep within her, and she trapped everything in there, then slammed the door shut, spinning the combination lock with great glee. 

Finally, at 7:30 she pulled into the back lot of Fangtasia. She slid into the parking space a few spots away from Eric's blood red Corvette. She waited a few minutes, just to see if he sensed her and came looking. Nothing. So far, so good. Time to put the plan into action. Grabbing her duffle bag from the back seat, she set to work. 

She took the hunting knife and slashed viciously at the Corvette's low-profile racing tires. They hissed as the air ran out, and ironically the sound reminded her of Eric when she did something that particularly aroused him. She smiled grimly at the thought and grabbed the paint thinner. Opening the can, she doused the hood, roof and trunk of the low sports car. It took a minute for the thinner to penetrate the thick layer of clear coat, but soon the beautiful deep red began to run. 

Last thing. Sookie took a deep breath and grabbed the softball bat. This was the trickiest part. She wasn't entirely sure Eric wouldn't be able to hear this. She hesitated for a moment, but luck was on her side. Not only was the music in the club particularly loud that night, but just at that moment a series of emergency vehicles screamed their way down the street in the front of the club. Sookie braced herself in her stilettos, got as good of a stance as she could get, and started swinging away. 

SMASH! There went the driver's side window. 

SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! Oops! There went the small back windshield.

Another SMASH! and the passenger window was destroyed.

Finally, a few more quality swings and there were some fantastic cracks in the front windshield. She would've loved to have finished it off, but sadly she was out of emergency vehicles. Sookie threw the bat back into her car, waited a few minutes for her breathing to even out, then moved her car to the front of the club. She opened the bond back up, grabbed her purse and headed to the front of the line.

"Sookie," Pam purred. "I was not sure you would show up tonight. Felicia, Thalia and I were placing bets on it. But here you are, and looking so delicious, too. My Master will no doubt be _very_ pleased."

"I didn't want to get you in any trouble Pam, have Eric think you hadn't _summoned_ me." Sookie gave her an evil grin.

"My Master is at his table. Enjoy your evening." Pam smiled, fangs out. 

"Oh, I'm _sure_ I will." As soon as she entered the club, Eric looked up. She could feel that he appreciated her efforts to look good. He grinned and made his way over to her. 

"Lover, tonight you amaze even me. You look stunning. I find myself wanting to delay my meeting and drag you back to my office." He gave her his sexy leer and wiggled his eyebrows at her. 

She just laughed and took his hand. "I was instructed to show up and look good, so let's get this over with." She started leading him back to his table.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce my lovely Bonded, Miss Sookie Stackhouse? Sookie, these are representatives from the King of Indiana, Martin Maxwell and Michael Stuart." He indicated a non-descript brown haired man and a flaming haired Scotsman, both vamps who looked like they had been turned in their mid-30s. They murmured something inane about how lucky Eric was, and she slid into the booth. 

She tuned them out for about half an hour as they talked business. She was aware of a gin and tonic being placed in front of her, and she sipped it. She felt Eric's cool hand on her leg, and saw him watching her curiously. She knew he had to be wondering what was going on - normally her Southern manners meant she never just sat dumbly and didn't even try to be polite. Also, she had never _not_ responded to his touch before. Finally, she was snapped out of her blankness.

"Gentlemen, would you excuse us a moment? I need to speak with my Bonded."

Ah, this was just the opportunity she had been waiting for. She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth.

"Actually, Eric, I need to be going. But before I do, there's something I want to say. I've said this before, but somehow I think you'll actually hear me this time. I _will not_ be summoned, and _I do not heel_." She spun on her stiletto and stalked to the door of the club.

"Oh, and one more thing - just to drive home my point, I've left a little message for you in the parking lot. You may want to take a look." She laughed as he stood there, mouth agape as he processed her words, and ran to her car. She knew he had to have run at vamp speed because she had just slammed the door shut when she heard his roar and felt his rage.

"SOOKIE!"

She started the car, threw it in gear and slammed down on the gas, going hell for leather as far away from Fangtasia as she could. As she did, she shouted, "Eric Northman, I rescind your invitation to my home!" then started laughing hysterically.

Sometimes being naughty felt so damn _nice_.


End file.
